Rumor Has It I Make You Nervous
by Socrates7727
Summary: Years after the disasters that overtook Beacon Hills, the entire pack-or what was left of it-was forced into the old high school and trapped. It all worked out in the end, aside from Stiles breaking off on his own for a moment. He didn't realize that Derek followed him... And he wants answers. One-shot Sterek!


AN I don't own Teen Wolf of any of its characters! Short one-shot because I felt like it! Sterek!

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They were locked in the high school overnight, but they were just killing time until morning when they could get out. So they gathered in the gym and just talked and joked. Stiles just had to get away from Scott and Allison's puppy love, though, so he dipped into the locker room and washed his face in the sink. When he looked up in the mirror, he yelped because Derek was standing right behind him. Normally, Derek was guarded and sharp at the best of times but there was a curious tilt to Derek's head and a tiny smirk playing at his lips that Stiles wasn't sure what to do with.

"Derek what the hell!?" But Derek just took another step up, closer.

"Rumor has it… I make you nervous." What the actual fuck?!

"Yeah, no shit! You creep up behind anyone like that in a dark, empty school and they'd be pretty damn nervous too! What's your problem?!" But Derek smirked a little bit more, taking another step closer. There wasn't that much space left, maybe enough for another step but nothing more before they would be pressed against each other.

"Mmm perhaps. But if that was all, your heartrate would be slowing, right? It isn't." Derek hummed, startling close to him compared to the distance Derek normally kept with everyone else around him.

"Actually, it seems, every step I take, your heart just beats faster and faster. Why is that, Stiles? Do I make you nervous?" Stiles choked, swearing at himself. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Derek smirked just a tiny bit more. He reached one hand forward to rest on the edge of the sink, just past Stiles.

"See, Stiles," Derek continued, his voice weirdly low and raw in the silence. "Now you're breathing quicker. But something tells me it's not because I startled you." Derek took another half a step. There was barely a foot between them, now, and Stiles felt like he was on fire. Hundreds of dreams and fantasies that started just like this were flooding back into his mind but _god_ he'd never dared to imagine that confident, michievious glint in his eyes when he looked at Stiles. God he was freaking out! Derek could hear his heart and his breathing and he had no doubt he sounded like a herd of elephants with asthma but he tried so hard to control himself. He thought of naked old people, of rotten fruit, and of everything that had ever done the reverse of turn him on. But Derek's eyes on him, dancing over his body, were not the kind of thing he could overpower with sheer will.

"I'm scared of you, sue me." Derek shook his head, tsking at him and moving another few inches closer.

"I would believe that…" Derek mused, angling his head so that his breath hit Stiles' skin. "But you just reek of arousal and every time I step closer, it gets a little stronger. You aren't scared-not of me. Let me ask you, though, how long?" Stiles swallowed hard, feeling the lump in his throat like he couldn't get oxygen no matter what he did.

"How long what?" Derek smirked, moving the last few inches. He hovered just centimeters from him, never letting their bodies touch but waiting as close as possible. Stiles felt the warmth radiating off of him. Shit…

"How long…" Derek whispered, locking eyes with Stiles in the mirror as his mouth dipped teasingly close to Stiles' throat. "Have you liked me?" He felt every word against his pulse point, but never touching. He couldn't breathe.

"So long" He finally managed to choke out, practically hyperventilating. Derek's smirk lifted into a slightly more innocent smile.

"Oh really? Why am I just now finding out about it?" Stiles swallowed again but he still couldn't breath, especially not with how focused he was on Derek's body. Was he getting closer? Or was Stiles just imagining it because he wanted it so badly? He could only shake his head, trying to apologize though he couldn't remember why. Derek hummed.

"Mmm unfortunate. If I had known…" That smirk returned, a little bit dangerous and a lot bit attractive. "Nevermind that. Tell me, Stiles, if you feel even half of the arousal that you smell like, what's keeping you in place?" He made himself breathe, panting and afraid to look away from Derek's eyes. He tried to answered, he really tried, but his voice wouldn't come. He breathed faster and faster until he felt like he was going to throw up or pass out or maybe cry. Derek's glint darkened into concern.

"Stiles," But Stiles was just shaking now, trying so hard to breathe, to answer him, to make this go right but he couldn't. The touch of Derek's hand to his wrist was like a jolt of electricity in his veins. He gasped in a breath, steadying a bit, but the panic rushed back. Slowly, he felt Derek grab his other wrist, and then lock eyes. There was worry, there, more than Stiles could ever remember seeing, even in life or death situations. Derek sighed when Stiles still couldn't calm down. Why the hell couldn't he calm down!?

But everything suddenly stopped.

Derek closed the distance. In an instant, every inch of his skin was suddenly pressed against Derek's warmth. His legs started to give out but it didn't matter because he fell back against something solid and strong, holding him up. Something squeezed him, like a hug, but it was so familiar to how his mom used to calm the panic attacks that he began to breathe. Slowly, he breathed enough to be able to see and was… shocked? In the mirror, he saw himself-his eyes wide with panic-but he saw Derek, his arms snug around Stiles, holding his arms against his chest. The more he breathed, Stiles realized Derek's head was looking over his shoulder, watching his face, furrowed in concern. It felt so.. Strange. To feel Derek against him and to see Derek holding him but not be able to comprehend it.

"Stiles," Derek breathed, his voice barely a brush against his ear but like gunshots in the silence. "Stiles, breathe. Why are you scared? Please, tell me?" Stiles made himself breathe. Where Derek's eyes had been like embers of want Stiles couldn't look away from them. But now, they were wide and deep. The kind of brown Stiles could get lost in. And, now, he finally was able to stare into them without catching himself or looking away when Derek caught him looking. It was calming, and made it easier to steady himself. He swallowed, his throat dry from crying.

"I'm sorry." The first words out of his mouth made Derek wince. Not because his voice was gravelly or his breath was bad, though. Derek seemed more sad than angry, but he couldn't understand why. Gently, Derek reached up to brushed his hair away from his eyes-the sweat from the panic attack making it cling to his forehead. But the touch was so… affectionate. Stiles wasn't sure what the hell was happening anymore.

"Stiles, don't apologize. Don't ever feel like you have to apologize. But please, tell me why you're scared? Please?" Stiles nodded, taking a deep breathe. Right, focus.

"Sorry, I just- Right, sorry I didn't mean to apologize dammit…" he sighed, making himself focus on Derek's eyes. "I didn't think it could be real." Derek nodded, softly tucking his hair behind his ear but never breaking eye contact.

"What makes me different from Lydia or Malia?" Stiles gulped.

"You're real," he finally murmured, but Derek gave him a confused look. "I mean… Lydia was never going to happen and we all knew that. Malia… Malia was fun and sweet but it wasn't love. It wasn't real. You're real." Derek nodded, still clearly not understanding but accepting it anyways.

"How long? Have you liked me, I mean." Stiles felt like he was going to cry again. Even twenty minutes ago he would have never imagined telling anyone, even Scott, how long he'd felt like he was in love with Derek. It was ridiculous because he hardly knew the man but it felt like more than a crush. But now he was in the locker room of his old high school and Derek was holding him after a panic attack? He didn't think Derek deserved to be lied to.

"Years," he breathed. "Since freshman year." Derek squinted at him.

"Of college?" Stiles steeled himself.

"Of high school." Derek was surprised, there was no doubt about that, but he didn't seem upset or disgusted. There was something amazing about looking at Derek through the mirror. It was less direct, less intimidating than face to face, and it made him feel braver. Slowly, a smile grew on Derek's face-not a smirk.

"Stiles?" His name, without a hint of anger or annoyance, from Derek's lips was like a drug. "When we get out of here, would you like to go out with me?" Stiles felt the ground drop. The only thing holding him in reality was Derek's arms around him, holding him against his body.

"What?" But Stiles heard him, he just didn't believe it.

"On a date. Do you want to go on a date with me?" Stiles just gaped at him, not understanding. "Stiles, you're one of the only people I've ever trusted. You're one of the only people I've kept in contact with after the fallout… I've liked you since I met you. Do you want go out with me?" And then suddenly it all clicked, like magic.

"Yes! Oh my god yes please yes!" When Derek smiled, it was the closest thing Stiles had ever seen to pure joy on his face. No pinch of anger, no irritation, no pain or regret. Just happy. Stiles beamed at him, still grappling but knowing that he was happy.

"Stiles, please don't ever make me let go of you." It sounded so simple but there was so much weight in the way Derek said it. Like he was asking him not to disappear or die, or turn evil.

"I won't." Derek nodded, nuzzling into the hollow of his throat.

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Thanks for reading! Reviews are always adored!


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